Page 8 of Beyond Repair: Part One

The garlic bread in my mouth tastes like ash.How am I feeling?I feel sick to my stomach and petrified.

Peeking up at my mom, I try not to let her worried expression rub off on me more than it already has. I shrug and ask a question of my own. "Are you guys excited?"

My tone comes off sad, not sassy, thankfully. If there's anything that would upset my dad, it would be disrespecting my mom. Still, my mom's fork clatters to her plate and her hand flies to her chest. Her reaction has me pausing and finally getting a good look at her.

"Nina, I'mterrified," she says aghast, like she can't believe I would ever think they would be happy to be empty nesters finally.

"Meg—" my dad mutters.

Mom shoots him a hard look while wiping tears from her cheeks. "No, Will. She needs to know how we feel about her leaving."

This,thisis why I think they'll be happy to have me moved out. All I ever do is cause tension and turmoil. Sometimes I wonder if I was better off never coming home or fighting for freedom.Mom cries so much because of me.

"I know, darling, but maybe not at the dinner table." Dad's trying to be reasonable, but the damage is done. Mom and I won't be finishing our dinner. My fears may be crippling since surviving Mr. M, but Mom and I have always lived with anxiety.

"It's fine, Dad."

He turns to me and gives me a quivering smile. "My sweet girl. We're scared too. We don't want you to leave ever, but it really is time. It's time to push ourselves outside of our new normal. We would be holding you back if we didn't encourage you to find what makes you happy again."

"I know," I reply, my monotone voice making his salt and pepper eyebrows furrow. I get it, I really do. If they weren't pushing me, I would stay here for the rest of my life, only being dragged to the grocery store once a month.

"I want you to be happy..." Mom whispers with tears still running down her cheeks.

I haven't been happy for a long time.In fact, I can remember the last time I felt joy so vividly.

"Do you like it?"

"Ridge, oh my god!" The squeal that bursts out of me doesn't do my excitement justice in any way. "This is amazing!"

I run around his office/art studio in wonder.I can't believe he's showing me this!I stop in front of five sets of stunning eyes hung on the wall.

"Ridgie, these are beautiful," I hum, taking in all the finite details and additions of colors he added to each eyeball.

Spinning in a circle, I try my best to keep my ego in check when I notice how many portraits he has of me hung and strewn across his ridiculously sized desk.

"I was wondering…" He coughs while rubbing the back of his neck. His messy strawberry blond hair gives him an air of nervousness, and the meticulous way he readjusts his sexy glasses makes my neck tingle.

I take a step toward him, really freaking hoping he's going to ask me what I want all four of my guys to ask. Why else would he bring me into his secret room? "Wondering what?"

"Do you want to make one with me?"

Disappointment flares hard and fast, but I push it away, then attempt to lighten the mood. "A baby?"

Ridge sputters, then lunges for me, making me squeak and try to bolt away. "No, heathen!" Before I can get very far, he snatches the back of Trevor's sweatshirt I'm wearing. "I want you to make something with me. Like a project that's all ours."

Sounds like he wants to make a baby with me.Instead of teasing him when it's clear he's showing me his most vulnerable side, I smile up at him.Jeez, they've all grown like a weed this year."I would love to. But let's stick to our skills, so it turns out good."

He beams at me, and I can see his mind whirring with possibilities of what we could make. I'm not incredibly artsy like Ridge is, but I'm decent with some charcoal and no clear rules. He's my color man...Always making things brighter and beautiful.

After a while of him letting me poke through his stuff, he taps me on the hip. "Are you happy, Neen?"

I smile.I would be happier if he would take my first kiss, but we'll get there someday.Showing me all of this is the equivalent of him ripping his heart and soul out, then letting me prod at them. "This is the best birthday gift, Ridgie."

He smiles right back at me. "Happy sweet sixteen, Nina."

WOOF!

NO.

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